“On my first visit to Brooks’” wrote Wilberforce, “scarcely knowing any one, I joined, from mere shyness, in play at the faro tables, where George Selwyn kept bank. A friend, who knew my inexperience, and regarded me as a victim decked out for sacrifice, called to me—‘What, Wilberforce is that you?’[‘What, Wilberforce is that you?’] Selwyn quite resented the interruption, and, turning to him, said in his most expressive tone, ‘Oh, sir, don’t interrupt Mr. Wilberforce, he could not be better employed.’” And again: “The first time I went to Boodle’s I won twenty-five guineas of the Duke of Norfolk. I belonged, at this time, to five clubs, Miles’ and Evans’, Brooks’,[Evans’, Brooks’,] Boodle’s, White’s and Goosetree’s.”
Sir Philip Francis, who many believe was the author of the famous “Junius Letters,” was much addicted to gambling and was a boon companion of Fox. The career of the Rev. Caleb C. Colton is an interesting one. He was educated at Eton, graduated at King’s College, Cambridge, as a Bachelor of Arts, in 1801, received the degree of Master of Arts in 1804 and held a curacy at Tiberton. He speculated heavily in Spanish bonds and yielded to the ruling passion of gaming, and his financial affairs becoming involved, he absconded. Subsequently, he reappeared in order to retain his living, but he lost it in 1828. After some time spent in the United States, he returned to Europe and became a frequenter of the gaming resorts in the Palais Royal in Paris, where, it is said, he won in a year or two £25,000. Part of his wealth he devoted to establishing a picture gallery.
Upon Lord Byron’s death he composed and printed for private distribution an ode on that event. Having become afflicted with a disease which necessitated a painful surgical operation, he blew out his brains rather than submit to it. This occurred at Fontainbleau in 1832.
Beau Brummell was even a greater gambler than was Beau Nash, and his end was far more sad. He frequented “Wattier’s,” where the play was so high that the club and almost every one connected with it, were ruined. One night in 1814, it is related, Pemberton Mills entered the club just in time to hear Beau Brummell, who had lost heavily for five successive nights, exclaim that he had lost his last shilling and that he wished some one would bind him never to play again.
“I will,” said Mills, and taking out a ten-pound note he offered it to Brummell on condition that he should forfeit a thousand if he played at White’s within a month from that evening. The beau took it, and for a few days discontinued coming to the club, but about a fortnight after, Mills happened to go in, and saw him hard at work again. Of course the thousand pounds was forfeited, but his friend, instead of claiming it, merely went up to him, and touching him gently on the shoulder, said, “Well, Brummell, you may at least give me back the ten pounds you had of me the other night.”
One night at Brook’s club, Alderman Combe, the brewer, then Lord Mayor of London, was busily playing at hazard in company with Brummell and others. “Come, Mash-tub,” said Brummell, who was the caster, “What do you set?” “Twenty-five guineas,”[guineas,”] answered the alderman. “Well, then,” returned the beau, “have at the mare’s pony” (a gaming expression for twenty-five guineas). He continued to throw until he won twelve ponies of the Lord Mayor, and then, getting up and making him a low bow, whilst pocketing the cash, he said, “Thank you, alderman; for the future I shall never drink any porter but yours.” “I wish, sir,” replied the brewer, “that every other blackguard in London would tell me the same.”
Brummell was concerned in an incident which occurred at Wattier’s club one night which threw all present into consternation. One of the players was a Mr. Bligh, whom every one knew to be a mad-man, but did not think especially dangerous. The incident is thus told by Mr. Raikes:
“One evening at the maco table, when the play was very deep, Brummell, having lost a considerable stake, affected, in his farcical way, a very tragic air, and cried out, ‘Waiter, bring me a flat candle-stick and a pistol.’ Upon this, Bligh, who was sitting opposite to him, calmly produced two loaded pistols from his coat pocket, which he placed upon the table, and said, ‘Mr. Brummell, if you are really desirous to put a period to your existence, I am extremely happy to offer you the means without troubling the waiter.’ The effect upon those present may easily be imagined at finding themselves in the company of a known mad-man who had loaded weapons about him.”
Brummell lost all of his money and a large amount beside, which he succeeded in borrowing of the money-lenders on bills signed by himself and several friends. Serious trouble over the division of one of these loans caused Brummell to flee to France. He used to say that up to a particular time in his life he prospered in everything, and that he attributed his good fortune to the possession of a silver sixpence with a hole in it, which a friend had given him “for luck.” One day he gave it to a cabman by mistake and from that time nothing but disaster had attended him in everything. One person to whom he told this asked him why he did not advertise for his lost sixpence. “I did, and twenty people came with sixpences having holes in them to obtain the reward, but mine was not amongst them.” “You never afterwards ascertained what became of it?” “Oh, yes,” he replied, “no doubt that rascal, Rothschild, or some of his set got hold of it.”
Beau Brummell died at Caen, in 1840, at the age of 62, having long been in great poverty, and for some time in a demented condition.